Last Minutes in an Endless War
by Urizen
Summary: Final thoughts of Wesley and Spike. Set during "Not Fade Away". The rating ´R´ is to be safe.


Last Minutes in an Endless War 

**A/N:** The last thoughts in the minds of Wesley and Spike. Set during "Not Fade Away".

For all intents and purposes, we assume that Angel and the others did not make it through the final battle.

**Feedback:**

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I'm dying.

The blade punctured my stomach and some other vital organs. I felt the burning pain when it entered and the cold when it was taken out.

Yet, all I can think about is that I know I won't see Fred again.

_Ever._

I heard the words. Her soul was burned away to make room for Illyria's.

She's gone from this world. As though she had never existed at all.

I wonder, if there's a Heaven, if she'd gone there. If she'd be waiting for me, glowing in a white dress, like Cordelia.

Even if she did, I know my place is not Heaven. I've killed. I've hurt people. I've lied.

I'm a sinner and my place to rest is Hell.

"Do you want me to lie to you now?"

I hear the voice and I want to pretend it's her. I see her and it's her. Her body, I tell myself, just her body. The body I did not get to love as much as I wanted. The heart inside that body that meant home to me. The eyes that spoke volumes of feeling without having to say a single word.

The mouth that caressed mine for a few glorious moments.

I find myself nodding and accepting her lies.

I was a watcher. I know what is truth and what is a lie.

I lost the love of my life and an ancient god in her body hurts me every day.

She smells like her. She walks sometimes like her.

Her voice, God, her voice tortures me every time I hear it.

I close my eyes and suddenly I feel her hand on my face. It feels so warm it almost burns.

Is she on fire or am I frozen?

I force a smile upon my face and I open my eyes. I look into the brown eyes I learnt to love. I can see Illyria is trying to mimic the emotion, but she is not her.

She is **not** her.

I want to scream that truth, but my lungs suddenly decide that they've had enough. I want to touch her one last time, to burn the memory of her skin in my mind. My arms feel so heavy that they do not obey the command my brain is sending.

The pain is receding. I know this is the end. I don't know what comes next, but my brain is screaming that I wont' get to see her again. That I have to take the face in front of me and try to imprint it in the deepest space of my consciousness.

I want to say that I love her, I don't know if I can, but I try.

I wish she knew. God, I wish she knew. I wish she felt all the love I had for her. That she was, **is**, perfect. That it doesn't matter what happened. It doesn't matter what she did. What she was.

She was the woman I loved.

She is the woman I love.

She is the woman I will love forever.

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The ancient god felt how the human in her arms ceased to function. A nagging feeling in the back of her mind screamed in rage and pain. Her only instinct was to destroy the creature that had caused the end of the man known as Wesley.

Illyria destroyed the wizard with a single punch. As the lifeless, headless husk fell, she turned around to look at the body of her fallen comrade. She stared at the motionless form and knelt once again in front of him. She saw the stain of blood in his stomach and another overwhelming sense of sadness assaulted her. She frowned. She was a god, not a simple mortal as the one who was dead at her feet.

A tear escaped her blue eyes and she let herself mourn the man who loved the body she inhabited.

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I jus' can't fuckin' believe I'm fightin' alongside Angel.

Again.

It turned into somewhat of a normal thing in these past months. Wake up, drink some blood, head up to the office, what's new? Oh, a demon is eatin' babies. Well Angelus, grab your cape an' sword an' let's kill some baby eatin' monster.

Yippie ke yay, motherfucker.

Where did I hear that?

Can't remember. Oops, a huge beast almost chops my head off. Not good.

Not in the least.

I hear a scream an' smell some blood.

Human blood.

Can't be distracted right now, but I know that was Gunn's last reserve of RH positive.

One more down.

The watcher bit it sometime earlier today, but it's one thing to know an' another to see.

This bloody soul makes it harder. Both of 'em were good guys.

I hear a muffled scream an' I see that Angelus has a three foot sword imbedded in his stomach. Heh. I can't help the grin that suddenly appears on my face. Ol' bastard could use the pain. Usin' us like pieces in a chessboard, what the hell does he think he is? My boss?

On second thought, maybe he is.

Was, by the looks of it, I don't believe Wolfram and Hart will let us walk away from this mess. Why can't I spend a year without findin' myself in the middle of a fight to the death?

Ouch, now it's me the one who walked into a spear. Well, wit' so many bloody pointy objects in the way, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

Don't want to admit it but I'm growing tired. Must 'ave killed at least twenty of these soddin' demons an' there's more of them comin'. At least fourteen of them are fightin' Illyria, who's givin' them hell. I don't recall ever seein' her so angry. Hell, I can't recall ever seein' some emotion on that face.

For the time she's been Illyria, of course, Fred always had a smile on her face.

Okay, who'd 'ave thought that I'd lose my right hand so fast? Some bloody idiot chopped it off while I was bouncin' off the wall. It's nothin', Spike ol' boy, you still 'ave your left hand.

More monsters are headin' on to Illyria's direction, an' I can't see Angelus anymore. There's blood an' guts rainin' down on my face. I struggle to see but I keep swingin' the sword. It's bound to hit somethin', right?

Argh. Someone stabbed my leg. Hurts like a sonofabitch but I 'ave to keep on fightin'. I hear a battlecry an' 'ave to look up. Heh. That bastard. He said he wanted to slay the dragon an' he's goin' for it. Gonna be a tough one, mate. Can't believe I'm sayin' this, but good luck.

I believe it's the last time I'm gonna see the bastard, so I might as well wish him some luck.

I smell brimstone an' I don't want to look up. Looks like the dragon was a fire breathin' one. Good riddance, old friend.

Looks like it's only smurfette an' me, an' I don't know how much we still 'ave in us.

Was this the right thing to do? Go out again in a blaze of glory?

Did it once before. Saved the world.

Left the woman I love.

Dammit, didn't want to think 'bout that. An axe falls on my shoulder and pierces bone an' ribs, lungs an' muscle. I cough up somethin' that looks like grinded meat but I still swing the sword 'round.

Will she be allright? Will she enjoy Rome an' Europe?

Does she think 'bout me at all?

Somethin' that looks like a stray cat jumps on my face and bites down on it. Really hard. I shake it off but it takes a piece of skin an' an eye wit' it. Poetic justice, I now look like that idiot Harris. Will the eyepatch thing go wit' me?

I smirk an' taste my own blood. Man, I wish she was here wit' us. She'd be givin' a hell of a fight.

Or she could be up there, tryin' to murder the dragon responsible for the death of the love of her life.

Dammit, bitter thought. She's off now shaggin' the bloody Immortal an' she doesn't know jackshit 'bout this.

Better off this way.

What would I've said? What words could express what happened between us? What words could tell her how much I love her?

I know none, an' I was a poet once.

I just wish I could 'ave been a better man for her. I know I'm not one, but I tried for 'er. I wish we could 'ave made love once. I wish that I could say 'I love you' one more time to her. I wish she'd been honest when she said she loved me.

Somethin' comes into view in the front of my shirt, an' it's growin' by the second. Ahh, a scimitar. It'd been ages since the last time I saw one. God, it hurts, an' now I'm really tired. I try to hold on to my sword but I'm lifted off my feet. I 'ave to let go of the sword or the scimitar will cut me in half. I grab the blade stickin' out of my chest an' try to ease some of the weight off. I end up cuttin' my hand deeply but it works. The bastard throws the scimitar wit' me on it. I fall several feet away an' I decide to lay there for a while. My head's spinnin' an' I can't help but feel fear.

Done this before, but had 'er by my side. Had her eyes lookin' at me an' showin' me her approval.

I was a good vampire, wasn't I?

I close my eyes. I want to rest for a while. I hear an' smell the thousand an' four warriors still left in the battlefield. Didn't think I'd be the last one standin'.

Or curlin' in a pool of my own blood, whatever.

Dammit, I will not die on the floor. I open my eyes an' notice the smug grins on the faces of all those motherfuckin' monsters.

I give them one of my own, as I turn into game face.

Where the hell did I get that word, anyways?

I picture 'er in my mind. She's smilin' an' holdin' my hand. She opens her mouth.

'_You've done enough, William._'

I frown. She laughs.

'_I'm kidding, Spike. It's time to come home._'

My smile turns wider.

"I am the scourge of Europe!" I scream. "I am William the Bloody!"

They roar an' charge towards me. I don't know how, but I manage to pry the scimitar off my body. I swing it around an' roar back at them.

"I am Spike! I will **not** die on my knees!"

Wit' all the strength I 'ave on my legs, I charge at them.

I hear her voice again.

'_It's time to come home._'

Laughter pours from my mouth.

A hundred plus years.

Damn, it was a good life.

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Illyria saw a thunder and suddenly all the monsters disappeared. She frowned and scanned the battlefield. It was as if nothing had happened. She walked down the alley until she discovered that something indeed had happened.

She knelt once again in front of the corpse of one of her allies. This time, it was the one she did not find unpleasant at all. Maybe because of the memories inside her body. What was his name?

Gunn.

She looked at his face, still contorted in silent pain. She wondered if this one had someone holding him when he died. The memory of Wesley's face brought another pang of pain and she closed her eyes. She didn't want to spend any more time with these humans. They ached so easily and died even easier. She stood up and looked around. No sign of the vampires. It seemed that whoever attacked them only wanted the vampires. She mourned them in her own way and focused on the task at hand. She was alone in a world she didn't know. Alone in a time she didn't understand. She revised the memories in her brain and decided that maybe looking for the relatives of her host could be in order. Maybe if she learnt their way of life she could try to make a life of her own.

Maybe that way she wouldn't be alone again.

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The slayer woke up in bed, sweating, a scream caught in her throat.

She'd gone to bed early, feeling something was wrong but not knowing what exactly.

The dream had been too vivid. Too real for it to be just a dream.

She sat on bed and opened her drawer, looking frenetically for the card that should be at the bottom. After a few minutes, she found the white card and went through the humiliating process of asking for an international long distance call in Italian.

Biting her nails, she waited for the operator to connect the call.

Minutes went by and the sinking feeling in her stomach turned into an abyss.

"The number you're trying to reach is disconnected. There's no need to report it. Thank you."

Buffy dropped the telephone, her mind replaying the images in her head.

Angel fighting a dragon.

Spike charging a million monsters.

She sobbed as she realized it'd been a prophetic dream.

Her vampires were gone.

End.


End file.
